


They Lyin' Naked with Some Asses in the Air

by pasdexcuses



Category: Social Network (2010)
Genre: M/M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-20
Updated: 2012-09-20
Packaged: 2017-11-14 15:41:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/516929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pasdexcuses/pseuds/pasdexcuses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>But then you get to what you like and the first word out of your mouth is spanking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	They Lyin' Naked with Some Asses in the Air

**Author's Note:**

> Written for kink_bingo prompts "smacking/slapping" and "wildcard (emotion play)".

**Disclaimer:** This work is based on the characters as portrayed in the movie The Social Network, not real people. And, obviously, I’m not making any money from this. Title from LMFAOs ‘I’m in Miami Bitch’.

 

**They Lyin' Naked with Some Asses in the Air**

 

You tell your girlfriend what you want and she slaps you hard across your cheek. She gets angrier when you smile slyly, like you have won a battle. She doesn’t realize she has just given you what you wanted. The irony of the situation is lost on her but not on you. Never on you. 

 

Something sits heavy on your chest as she storms out. You let her go because she isn’t right for you. And that weight wearing you down is not the loss of her but the fear of never finding someone who _is_ right for you. 

 

But you teach yourself to be patient and explore other things. Some, you like, some, you hate. Some you will do because they ask you to. There is no shame in what you want; this is what they teach you. 

 

What never changes is that certain something about the impact of flesh on flesh that gets you going. It electrifies every inch of your body, sets you on fire. You dig your fingers into their soft, willing skins before raising your hand and striking across their bodies. Their skins look like canvases coming to life with your prints. Your palms feel hot, they sting for a while. 

 

And it’s fine, for now. You go to class, leaving everything at the back of your mind until you get away again. It’s a relief, a release of sorts, the simple act of being able to be with someone who will let you mold them and mark them.  

 

A month goes by, then two and three and before you now it, you’re halfway through your sophomore year. That’s when you meet him, and you’ve never felt anything like this before. You want him. You need him. And you’re so afraid, so absolutely petrified of what that means. You don’t say anything because your feet get cold at the thought of losing him. You don’t want him to break your nose or punch you in the eye for telling him what you want. You don’t want him to slap you across your cheek. 

 

You’re afraid Mark won’t want it back. 

 

*

 

It’s different with Mark. Mark doesn’t need the pain. He doesn’t mind it but he doesn’t particularly enjoy it. He is not like those before him because _they_ enjoyed the pain. They needed the pain in a visceral way that you have never quite understood. But Mark isn’t like that. 

 

For all that you worried about him wanting this, when it actually happens it’s a bit anti-climatic. You notice the small changes. Although Mark probably notices first. He changes around you in ways that anyone can pick up but only someone like you can understand.

 

You say and he does. It doesn’t go amiss among his roommates, who take it lightly. Who think you have some sort of magical power over him that’s more a joke than anything else. What they don’t realize is that Mark wouldn’t do this for just anyone. He wouldn’t obey any random person. Mark chooses you and everything he does is to make you realize this.

 

So, when you finally do, Mark only smirks, saying, “You finally caught up.”

 

There is no question about what you’re doing. You’ve both been around long enough to know a fair deal about what you like and what you don’t. After discussing safewords, what you find out is that, for Mark, you have pretty much been covering all his needs without realizing. 

 

Mark likes not having to think too hard. He likes not having to decide. He gives up control so easily that it’s hard for you to reconcile this side of him with the robotic bluntness that everyone else associates him with.

 

But then you get to what you like and the first word out of your mouth is spanking. Mark raises an eyebrow at this, like he wasn’t quite expecting that. You swallow hard, your face feeling hot. 

 

“Is that… Do you _need_ it?” Mark asks, carefully, like he’s not quite sure how to frame the question. 

 

You shake your head because, maybe if you give this up, you can have Mark. And Mark is asking instead of leaving straight away. You can give it up. Fuck, you’d give everything up. 

 

“I… Well, I don’t—”

 

“ _Don’t_ be accommodating about this, Wardo.”

 

“What?”

 

“You need it,” Mark states and now you know for sure you’re blushing. “Look, it’s okay, we can try it. I mean, I’ve tried it before but everything is different with everyone.”

 

You take a deep breath before replying, “Mark, we don’t have to, I can leave it, I can forget it and never, ever—”

 

“You’re being stupid.” Again, it’s a statement. Like Mark knows you better than you know yourself. “And you’re lying to yourself if you think you’re gonna like this if you’re start leaving out the things you need.”

 

“I don’t need it, Mark,” you snap. 

 

Mark narrows his eyes at you, like he knows you’re lying. “Fine.” A beat. “I still want to try it.”

 

“You don’t have to.”

 

“What do you use? A paddle? What kind of paddles do you own?”

 

“Mark,” you start in your best warning voice.

 

But instead of shutting up or saying that he doesn’t want it, Mark takes your wrist. It’s awkward. You can tell Mark is trying to communicate something and he’s not exactly an expert. It makes you smile because you can’t remember the last time Mark tried so hard. Then Mark says, “ _I_ wanna try it.”

 

Mark’s hand is still on your wrist. His fingers are stretched out over your skin and pressing down where your pulse is racing. 

 

You tell him to take off his pants and boxers as you sit on the edge of the bed. There’s a certain mechanic to Mark as he complies, a practiced ease that reminds you this is not his first time.

 

“Safeword?” you ask, again, to make sure Mark wants this.   

 

“Green.”    

 

Mark twitches, but only slightly, as he lies across on your lap, face down and legs straight. You bend forward Mark’s knees so that his ass sticks out. You lift your leg until your thigh is pressed against Mark’s cock. Like this, you make sure Mark’s ass is properly exposed before your hand comes down on it. You dig your fingers in the softness of Mark’s skin before you do it again. Mark fidgets, not much but enough to make you hold him steady. Mark exhales, leaning into your touch. You spank him again and this time Mark’s muscles give away, not entirely loose but less tense than when you started. 

 

You slap him again, harder. Once more and harder still. Your hand stings for a couple of seconds, quickly turning red but the color on you doesn’t last as long as it last on Mark’s ass. You escalate, harder yet steady, alternating between cheeks. Your hand stings and your arm starts to hurt. But you’re also getting hard. With every swat on Mark’s ass, with every print of your hand on his pale skin, your cock twitches. 

 

You’re glad Mark talked you into doing this. You’re glad he insisted. Nothing gets you going like your hand going numb after a round of slaps. 

 

You get lost in the canvas in front of you. You lose yourself in the sensation of your skin hitting Mark’s. 

 

So it’s only when you’re done that you realize Mark has gone limp across your lap, breathing steadily, like he has fallen asleep. Your heart sinks. 

 

You’ve never felt anything like this. Or you have but not this strong, it has never felt like an urge before. You have never _needed_ to take care of anyone as much as you need to take care of Mark.

 

It’s easier to stir Mark after you spank him. He is malleable under your hands and you’re scared, for a moment, because you don’t know what to do with it. You push through it, telling Mark to lie flat on his chest on the bed. In your drawer, you find some cooling gel that you spread over Mark’s ass. You notice your handprint on Mark’s skin is already starting to turn a little purple. Mark is probably one of those people who bruises easily.

 

You apply the gel as gentle as you can, taking your time to rub Mark’s ass. Mark’s muscles are so loose, you’re not sure he isn’t just sleeping. Putting away the gel, you lie on your side, facing Mark and brushing the curls around his forehead. 

 

“Is that it?” Mark asks, blinking at you.

 

“Yeah.” 

 

You want to ask him if liked it, you want to ask if he hated it. But you’re not brave enough so you wait. 

 

“I like,” Mark starts around a yawn. “Wardo?”

 

“Mark?”

 

“That was nice,” Mark says as he tries to burrow deeper into your bed.

 

Mark looks like a cat trying to snuggle in your sheets and that thought makes you chuckle. Shaking your head, you go to your closet to grab a blanket. Draping it over yourselves,you spoon around Mark to take a nap. 

 

You’re smiling so hard your face is hurting.  

 


End file.
